Betrayal: Somewhere In The Middle
For the fans out there (and the critics), here's an excerpt from somewhere in the middle of Betrayal.
Considering you've only read the prologue and the query pitch, you may need to know that Jeffrey is Kit's fiance, whom Corky (the hero) had recently caught cheating on our heroine.
And their full names are Kit Sawyer and Corky Wyatt (they use their surnames a lot, in their fiery conversations!).
That's all you probably need to know. Enjoy! And let me know what you think...
Kit had been trying to fall asleep for the past hour, the French doors to her balcony open to allow the soothing sound of the ocean crashing below to calm her.
It hadn’t been working.
Then the phone on her beside table rang. For a moment, she simply listened to it ring, wondering if it was Jeffrey.
Or Corky.
She didn’t want to speak to either of them.
Sighing, she finally reached over, picked up the receiver. She didn’t want to disturb Maria, after all. “Hello?”
“Is this Wyatt Paranormal Investigations?” a timid voice asked. Female. Scared.
Kit remembered the new printing of business cards, letter heads, advertising. All with Kit’s home number added to the list. God only knew why now, when it was near midnight and she was in bed. “Yes. Yes, it is. Kit Sawyer speaking. How can I help you?”
A crash sounded on the other end. “Please. Come quick. Something’s in my house.”
Kit pushed back the covers, sat upright. Jesus, at this rate, her business, or Corky’s business, would be back in action in no time. “What’s your address?” She printed the address on a bedside notepad in her neat scrawl. “Hang in there for half an hour. We’ll be there.”
She hung up. Pondered whether she could do this without Corky. Decided she couldn’t, and rang his cell phone.
Kit arrived first, as she was closer. She rang the doorbell, glancing around worriedly at the eerie night. There were no stars in sight, and the air was still and almost heavy. Full of pressure.
She involuntarily shivered. The world had seemed so much less frightening before she’d begun to believe in the supernatural.
Hadn’t it?
Or perhaps now it made more sense.
Either way, she’d never get used to this situation. Walking into a haunted house at midnight.
Corky arrived at that moment, as the front door swung open. He screeched his car to a halt, going up the curb as he did so.
“Are you…the detectives?” a small voice whispered.
Kit realized a couple were standing there, seeming somehow diminished by what they’d gone through. “Ah, yes. I’m Kit. And this,” she glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see him hurry across the front lawn. “This is Corky.”
He reached them, quickly shook the terrorized couple’s hands. Then met her eyes. And Kit realized in that beat that he was torn up over her.
She didn’t care, wouldn’t care, couldn’t care, if he was in shatters over her, when she’d just found out her fiancé was fucking around on her.
Except she did care about Corky. Wasn’t that the problem? She cared, but there was nothing either of them could do about it.
End of story.
Except it wasn’t, somehow. Would their story ever be done? Kit almost felt an odd knowledge that the two of them would never be done. They’d never be through with each other.
He finally pulled himself from the lure of her eyes, and faced the couple once again. “If you two would mind stepping outside? Even if you want to take my keys, sit in my car. Go for a drive. Go to a friend’s place. Just don’t be here right now.”
The man, around forty, but seeming older now in pure terror, stepped forward. “Will you…get rid of it?”
Corky nodded. “So far, I haven’t left one behind. I don’t plan on starting tonight.” He handed the man the keys. “Just go relax somewhere. We’ll take care of this.”
The couple seemed almost relieved to be out of their own house. They hurried down the steps, practically ran across the lawn to Corky’s car.
“Surprised you even called me,” Corky said as he entered the house, shutting the door behind them. Kit felt a sudden trapped feeling, as if he’d just closed the door to their tomb. And that was odd for her to make that analogy, since she loved nothing more than being in the tombs in Egypt. “After the way you left us at the bar this evening.”
The front door opened directly onto the lounge room, which was actually in a hexagon shape. Three archways led from the large room, all dark now. What lay beyond could not be seen. It was dark.
Kit stalked into the middle of the room. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, spinning round to face him.
He gave the ruined room a cursory glance, before moving close towards her. “What the fuck do you think it means, sweetheart?” he asked in a deadly voice. He didn’t like, one bit, that she was taking her anger out on him. When Jeffrey was the one betraying her.
A flurry of activity picked up on the other side of the room. Some stray newspapers, a few magazines. They began spinning in the air like mini tornados.
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking, idiot!”
Corky made a noise, shaking his head. “Don’t call me names, Sawyer. Unless you’re prepared for the consequences.”
She stood tall, as tall as she could against this man. “Don’t fucking act all huffy with me, Wyatt, when you’re the one who withheld what you knew last night. How could you do that? How could you fucking sit there all night, the way we were, and not tell me?”
More activity began to swirl around them. An empty glass, a couch cushion. The TV remote. Both were blind to it, however.
They only had eyes for each other.
Corky took a step towards her, towered over her. “I didn’t betray you, Kit. Your fuckwit of a fiancé did, so don’t drag me into it! Don’t take your anger at him out on me!”
“Oh, go fuck yourself, Wyatt!”
She turned to stalk away, and he grabbed her by the upper arm. “Don’t swear at me, little lady. Or you’ll soon see the consequences.”
“Is that your new word? Consequences. I don’t give a fuck what consequences you’re talking about! And I’ll swear at you as much as I fucking like!”
She struggled to free her arm, and he pulled her closer instead. “I could name a couple of consequences right here, woman. I could definitely name a couple, if you keep pushing me, little lady.”
“Don’t call me lady. Or little,” she hissed up at him.
“Why? You ain’t a lady? Yeah, anybody could tell that – ”
The slap took him by surprise. This little hell-cat was fast. “Jesus – ”
He was cut off again by the force of her hand again. “Your stupid-ass blondes might put up with your crap, Wyatt, but don’t try it on me. I won’t stand for it!”
Items were now wildly spinning around the two of them, enclosing them in a tight circle. Kit spotted the movement out the corner of her eye, and couldn’t be fussed with it. She was too busy spitting fire at Corky.
And Corky was too busy being aroused by her. “Oh?” he growled, furious and horny and excited and angry by her. “Will you put up with this instead?”
And he dragged her towards him, crushed her against his chest, and plunged into her mouth. Plundered her mouth.
His hands snaked up her back, under her shirt. His palm seemed to burn an imprint into her skin, he was so hot.
Or maybe it was her skin that was searing.
Corky walked her backwards towards the couch, his hands roaming all over her flaming skin, his mouth exploring her open one, both of them moaning. All the while, the room spun around them, the spirit angry or excited by their display.
Either way, neither was noticing. They were too busy with each other.
Through the haze of the intoxication of him, and his touch and smell and manliness, Kit became aware of the room swirling around them. Her heart leapt at the incredible knowledge of the supernatural being in the same room as them. “Corky,” she murmured against his mouth, as he continued to kiss her into insensibility. He’d pushed her against the couch now, and he was practically laying atop her, his hands cupping her full breasts. She groaned.
“Hmm?” All he could hear or feel was the roaring in his ears. His blood roaring, bubbling with excitement.
Kit had to swim to the surface, kicking and screaming, to get her wits about her again. She kissed him again, then broke the surface. “Cork. The room. The room.”
“Huh?” He was having trouble focusing. All he could see were her amazing ruby lips.
“The room.”
Finally, Corky dragged himself from the spell that was her. He surfaced himself, tore his eyes, and mouth, away from hers, and glanced around the room. “Shit. Got a live one here, darling.”
Kit shivered at his endearment, her hands still wrapped in the hair at the nape of his neck. Corky nuzzled into her for a second more, then reluctantly pulled himself away. It tore at his heart to do so, but leaving this ghost to do more damage would be too dangerous.
He stood, whipped out his Coptic ankh. Kit felt suddenly strange upon seeing it. “What’s…what’s that?” she asked, feeling her heart begin to clutch and spasm. It was bizarre, this intense emotion she was feeling at the sight of it. Part familiarity, part fear.
Corky, distracted by the objects narrowly missing his head, glanced down at her. Saw the distress in her face. “It’s my ankh. Normally it works to dispel spirits.”
“It’s Coptic.” She came to her feet, her hand unconsciously over her aching heart. Sudden flashes were crossing her vision. A sandstone room, an enormous bed, silk drapes everywhere…the smell of sand and water and the buzz of insects. Mosquitoes, perhaps.
“Yeah.” He began to ask how she knew, then stopped. She was an archaeologist, after all. Of course she knew the stone was Coptic Egyptian. “Kit, are you alright?”
No, she wasn’t alright. The flashes, or visions, were coming harder and faster now. Jeffrey. She could see Jeffrey, a glinting blade in his hand, his face deranged. He was coming towards her, the blade raised high and with deadly intent.
She screamed, in her current life, in the current moment, as the pain from the past sliced through her. Dug deep into her soul. Wrenched at her mind, her heart, her soul.
She saw herself raise her own weapon, a smaller knife, but one no less deadly than Jeffrey had wielded. She saw herself stab him in the belly, saw herself kill him as he had killed her. They both fell to the floor together, and as she died, as the life slipped out of her, she saw his blue eyes. His chilling blue eyes, both sad and murderous as they lay, mere inches from one another, both bleeding to death from mortal wounds inflicted by the other.
“Goodbye, my darling,” Jeffrey spoke, the language ancient. Coptic. “We’ll be together forever.”
And before her eyes closed for that final time, she glanced up at the Coptic stone hanging over her bed. Their bed.
The same Coptic ankh Corky now held in this life.
V8 Supercar Pitstop
Don't keep us in suspense ... what happens next?
Loved the part you've posted and I can't wait to read the whole thing.
A.H.
Motherhood
Hey A.H.
Thanks for your unwavering support...love it!
I really appreciate it,
K.L.
P.S. I know, it's cruel, keeping you in suspense, isn't it??
Celebrity Obsession
I love what I've read so far. I'm already in love with Corky! I can't wait to read the whole thing. Just from the prologue and the bit that you've posted here I can see it's a cracker.
I've read a lot of romance novels in my time. And personally, just the small bit I've read of yours is more engaging than most.
Definitely keep plugging away. This is really good and surely it has to get picked up for publishing!
KylieW
To KylieW,
Your words mean the absolute world to me...you can not know how much they mean to me!
I've waited a long time (feels like an eternity), to have someone (other than my sister) enjoy my work, and love my characters.
Ultimately, this is exactly why I'm writing....forget all my dreams of what being a bestselling author will bring, and the success...
This is why I write. So that people like you will read it and enjoy it and love it.
Thank you, Kylie. I will print this off and keep it forever!
K.L.
P.S. I'm obviously in love with Corky myself...he's my ideal man, even though he comes with a past and has some major issues.